These Little Wonders
by Jamrock
Summary: When her estranged brother suddenly dies, Casey Novak-Stabler and her husband Elliot, are forced to expand their family when Casey takes in his four boys.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Law and Order: SVU is the property of Dick Wolf and NBC. I'm just having fun.

A/N: This is my first SVU fic everybody, so please, be gentle. Thank you **Cusswords **for being my beta. Thanks for the idea and I know we were supposed to share, but I got into it.

Anyhow, I hope you all enjoy. Feedback is appreciated, of course.

* * *

_ our lives are made  
in these small hours  
these little wonders,  
these twists & turns of fate  
time falls away,  
but these small hours,  
these small hours still remain_

_-Rob Thomas, Little Wonders, Meet the Robinsons Soundtrack  
_

Chapter One

I became who I am today June 25th, 2008. I was eleven years old.

The coroner called it 'a sudden, fatal occurrence of coronary thrombosis'. I called it a miracle.

My father's death was quick and spontaneous, like a flash of lightening. Death is like that. You know where it is, you can feel it, you can grip it, touch it on your way out. When he sent me to the store for a pack of Newports and a quart of milk, I knew he wouldn't be alive to count his change.

The days after my father's death people stole in from all corners of the town. You get one, you get all of them, and 'all of them' were trying to figure out what to do with my little brothers and I. There was talk of looking for our mothers. However, there was consensus among delegates that any woman who took up with our father had absolutely no business caring for a child.

"What about you, Garland," Mr. Hampton, the town notary and owner of the only barbershop for six miles, turned his coal black eyes on the old man in the paint stained overalls. "They're your grandchildren after all."

Garland's only response was to spit on the tattered living room floor.

"It's all too trifling for me," Mrs. Millard huffed from the old rocker by the window. "Leaving these poor children without a pot to piss in nor a window to throw it out of. Your son ought to be ashamed, Garland, and so should you."

"Ashamed?" the old man laughed. "Shamed of what? I served my country, raised the babies I made, and I pay my goddamn taxes like the rest of you people. I've done all I'm supposed to do. I didn't ask that boy to lay up with any broad that batted her eyes and called him 'honey'. So it'll be a cold day in hell before I take on the mistakes that he made."

People knew better than to argue with him. When he got fixed in an idea, he stayed rooted in it and nobody our side of Georgia had the energy to pull him out of it.

"You don't have _anybody _else?" Ms. Annie-Faye asked desperately, her brown eyes sitting on my face. She was too young to be anybody's missus and too old to be a girl. She was a nurse over at the county hospital and she always smelled like gardenia. "Come on Nicky, is there anybody you can think of?"

I shook my head and dug up a smile, though it was a rueful one.

"Well you best conjure up somebody or they'll care ya'll off to a state home," One Eyed Ben Harbinger, the butcher, hissed between his woodened pipe. He lost his eye in the war, he said, but everybody knew his wife poked it out the night she caught him in bed with the church pianist.

"Maybe even separate ya," his not so little brother, Kirk, cosigned with a swift nod of his peanut head.

"There's no need to scare them," Annie-Faye cut her brown eyes at the Harbinger brothers before crossing the room. She kneeled in front of me and brushed her soft fingers against my cheek. I shuddered, praying Garland would drop dead. Maybe then she'd give me a kiss. "Your mama's people? Know any of them?"

"No. My mother died when I was little. Never knew her folks."

She turned her angelic face on my three brothers. "And you all? Come on, surely you've got somebody."

"They got nobody," I spoke for them.

"They've got mouths of their own," she frowned and I threw my eyes down to my shoes. "Frankie? Your mother had plenty of kin. I was at the wedding, I remember."

"No ma'am, got nobody," he muttered softly.

"Wally?" she spoke slowly and deliberately, her voice calm and tentative. "Honey, I know your mama's gone, but did she have anybody? A sister maybe, a brother or two, somebody that can take you all in until this gets straightened out?"

He just stared ahead, his brown eyes empty as a picked pocket.

"Wally," she pushed a little, laying her left hand on his shoulder.

He didn't even blink. Straight ahead, burning a hole through the dirty wallpaper.

"Walton!" Garland hissed through clenched teeth. "Boy, that lady's speaking to you."

"Aww hell, leave the kid alone," Mr. Hampton waved his chubby hand through the air. "Everybody knows he ain't right in the head."

"Nothing wrong with that boy," One Eyed Ben narrowed his good eye at my brother.

"His daddy was too soft with him after his mama died is all," Kirk added.

"Nothing a few licks of this here belt won't cure," Garland moved to stand, but Mr. Hampton pushed him back down onto the couch. "Wait a second…"

"Can't you see those boys are grieving?" Mrs. Millard interrupted. She reached into her purse and produced a white handkerchief and dabbed at her beady eyes. "Shame on it all!"

"It's too bad," Mr. Hampton turned his foggy grey eyes on my baby brother, Jack. He was squirming in Frankie's lap, eager to crawl and drool all over our "guests". "Won't even remember his father."

Garland scoffed. "What's to remember?"

"I got it!" Annie-Faye bubbled, snapping her dainty little fingers soon as the idea bubbled into her mind. "What about…"

"Didn't you hear a word…?" Garland snapped. Then, suddenly, like a shot from a rifle: "No! No! _Hell no!_"

"What in the devil's gotten into you?" One Eyed Ben furrowed his ingrown yellow brow.

"No!" Garland went on before Kirk could agree with his brother. "There's no way in _hell _she's—"

"Who?" Mr. Hampton asked, his lips knitted together in an eager smirk. Then, like the sky before a twister, his face clouded and his eyes darkened. "Oh. I don't think that's a good a idea Annie-Faye."

"Oh, why not? The nurse put her hands on her hips and angled her lanky body toward Garland. "She's your daughter."

"The hell she is! She left this town, left me and her mother, on account of bein' too good for the likes of us…common folk. Well, I'll tell ya, she can keep her uppity little ass right where it is. 'She's your daughter'. So what? She ain't been here in over ten years. She doesn't give a damn about me or anybody else who got my blood in their veins."

"It's either her or foster care," Mrs. Millard whined.

"Well that's too damn bad!" Garland bellowed. His voice vibrated off the thin walls of our tiny house. Jack started to cry. Garland glared hotly at Frankie, who was bouncing him on his knee to quiet him. "Shut that kid up!"

"You're being unreasonable," Annie-Faye declared, stomping her foot. "Whatever problems you and Casey had, they're ancient history. This is about these boys and their future."

"I don't give a sheep's ass," Garland pulled himself up and threw himself toward the door. Hurling a communal look of disgust, his final words came in a grim clump: "That girl has no business being near those children. They'll be better off sitting in somebody's orphanage than having to lay up under a woman that thinks they're trash."

The crowd dissipated after that. Annie-Faye was the last to leave. She offered to make us something to eat, but I could manage. I'd been managing for a long time, but I kept that part a secret.

"You call me if you need anything, you hear me Nicky?"

I nodded, ducking my head.

She rewarded me with a smile and touched my cheek again before stepping off into the black night.

I tucked Frankie and Wally in, fed Jack, and sat in the living room. I wondered about Casey while a few people solved thousand dollar puzzles on _Wheel of Fortune._ I didn't even know my father had a sister. Nobody ever talked about her, not even Grandma. There weren't any pictures of her anywhere. She had completely erased herself from the family. I envied her already.

* * *

"It's ironic," she said to the man on her arm. "A man without a heart being attacked and killed by one."

The man laughed a little and kissed her cheek. "He was your brother."

"He was an asshole, though Hell's now without an Earth roaming ambassador. Pity."

She was as fiery as her hair, Aunt Casey. Almost as tall as the man on her arm, her classic features made her look like a walking clothes hanger. Her green eyes were hard as nails. Her mouth was a canon and her mind was ready to load it any time. Her voice was gravelly like an old record, her clothes unconventional and quirky.

Frankie and I were playing catch on our front lawn. Wally sat on the steps, staring onto oblivion, while Jack napped on a blanket on the porch. Frankie dropped the ball as soon as we heard their voices. I stood at attention, unsure and unprepared. Nobody told us she and her man friend were coming.

She flushed the color of her hair when she realized we'd heard their conversation. She licked her lips and glanced between Frankie and I.

"Nicholas?"

I nodded hesitantly, before opening the used to be white gate and waving them in. I offered her my hand as soon they were close enough. "Nick."

She smiled brightly and held onto my hand. "I suppose I'm your Aunt. Casey, Casey Novak, but I suppose that's a little on the obvious side. This is my husband, Elliot Stabler."

I met the man's blue eyes and I was surprised to see a raw kindness in them. He was a sturdy man with a nose curved like a rainbow. His closely-knit eyebrows seemed to dominate his face. His ruddy complexion and gentle smile contradicted the muscles oozing from his cotton shirt and his combative stance.

Casey leaned into Elliot's chest and he rested his chin on her forehead. She turned her jovial smile on Frankie, who had eased closer to me. "And you must be Franklin, though I assume you wanna be called something else."

"Frankie will do," he said more to the dead grass at his feet.

"Walton and Jackson," she looked past us. "Nicholas, Franklin, Walton, and Jackson. Gee, was it Jed's mission for you to hate him?"

Elliot gave her a soft nudge and she grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Could be worse," I shrugged. "I could be Jed Junior."

Her face livened up and she turned to face the stairs, her eyes dulled when they met Wally's. A pair of green eyes stepped right over another. "Wally," she called softly.

No answer, no indication of a connection.

Casey looked at me for an explanation. Frankie answered for me. "He don't talk."

"He can't talk?" Elliot folded his arms, his brow an astonished line.

"No," Frankie emphasized the negative response. "He _don't _talk."

"Why?" Casey breathed.

Frankie looked at me. I shook my head slightly. "He just don't."

She and Elliot exchanged looks. She frowned. "Annie-Faye mentioned something about that."

"And your Aunt thinks she's an miracle worker," Elliot smiled at Frankie and I.

"It's like he isn't there," her voice was sad. She had yet to take her eyes off Wally.

Frankie shrugged. "He ain't."

Casey and Elliot met at work. They butted heads at first. Similitude breeds contempt, Casey had said with a smirk. Matrimony too, Elliot added. He was a detective and she was his unit's former assistant district attorney. When Frankie asked what happened, she cut him a look so sharp I thought she'd lacerated an artery.

They'd been married for three months. He had five children from his previous marriage, three girls and two boys. His youngest daughter and her twin brother lived with them part time and his youngest son, who was a few months older than Jack, visited on weekends. His older daughters were both away at college. One was a sophomore and the other would be graduating next summer.

We were to live with them in New York. I would get my own room, Frankie and Wally would share, and they would set up a crib for Jack in Eli's nursery. Casey would stay home with Jack until she found a new job. I would go to a nice neighborhood school.

"They have a great art program," Casey patted my shoulder. "Annie-Faye said you like to draw."

Frankie would go to 4th grade at the elementary school a few blocks away from their house. Lizzie and Dickie, Elliot's twins, would look after us until they got home from work. They glanced at Wally, who was sitting in the armchair, locked in his mind.

"Does he go to school?" she asked.

"Yes. He just sits there. They put him in the special class," I said, looking at him. "He isn't special. He knows how to read and write. He just doesn't want to. He isn't ready."

"How long has he been…" Elliot stopped, unsure of what to call Wally's way of life.

"Is it because of your father?" Casey offered.

"No. Since…can we not talk about this? It upsets him."

They both nodded and exchanged looks.

"Well," Elliot stood to his feet and stretched. "We'd better get back to the hotel. The service is tomorrow. We'll be helping you pack a few things before we leave. Annie-Faye offered to ship the rest to New York soon as we get back."

Frankie and I stood up and walked them to the door. One her way out, Casey rubbed her hand over Wally's brown curls. "You're safe now."

He didn't flinch or move or give any other signals that he heard her. She sighed and followed Elliot to the door. She hugged Frankie and I and both she and Elliot expressed sorrow for our loss. We both resisted the urge to explain why we didn't share that sentiment.

On their way down the steps I heard her voice: "I don't know if I can do this."

"They're depending on you, Casey."

She nodded and they continued out the gate toward their shiny rental car.

Casey offered to cook dinner several times and Elliot suggested they stay with us, but I fended them off. We were okay. The four of us, we were good at being okay. Being okay was like breathing. Even Wally could be okay.

If we stopped pretending, even for a second, we would have probably went nuts.

I cooked, got our suits ready, tucked in my brothers, and sat by the window in the living room. I tried to remember what it was like to have somebody to depend on. I fell asleep five minutes later.

The service was quick. The minister said a few words and the choir sang a few hymns. Nobody had anything to say about Jed Alan Novak and since the funeral planner had allotted five minutes, the minister just allowed us to pray silently.

The church was packed, though nobody was there to view the body. They wanted a good look at my aunt, with her wayward clothes and Yankee accent. The church provided a small meal and folks sat at the tables, whispering among themselves.

Elliot proved to be popular with the ladies and I heard several graphic phrases from a few of the men. Southern etiquette strictly forbade probing questions and frowns, so people just nodded and smiled—only whispering when their backs were turned,

Garland surprised everybody when he came over to the house to say goodbye. He leaned stiffly against the gate, watching with slit eyes as Elliot stuffed our bags into the trunk. I was helping Casey with Wally's suitcase when she noticed him. She dropped her side and the extra weight almost sent me flying to my demise. She didn't notice. Father and daughter were staring each other down like wolves.

"What's the matter Casey June, cat got your tongue?" Garland spat on the ground. His green eyes were boiling with hostility.

"Daddy," she said evenly.

He glanced at the diamond ring on her finger. "Looks like you managed to sink your claws into one of them yanks."

She remained silent.

"Suppose Annie-Faye Abernathy told you about your brother."

"She did."

"They say his name's Stabler," Garland ran his fingers over his chin. "That's an Irish name, right?"

"It is."

"He Catholic?"

"Yep."

"Well good for you," he clapped. "You managed to do one thing right."

By then Elliot was by her side, his arm drawn protectively across her shoulders. He narrowed his eyes and flexed the muscles in his jaw. "You should be going now."

"That any way to talk to your father-in-law?"

Elliot's eyes seemed to widen in surprise. Garland Novak sneered.

"What's the matter, she didn't tell you she was white trash?"

"No," he shook his head slowly, a dark smile snaked its way onto his face. "I'm just surprised she lets you get away with announcing the unfortunate fact that the two of you share DNA."

Garland spat on the ground and glanced at me. "No goodbye for your granddaddy, Nicky?"

"Bye," I said blandly.

Frankie and Annie-Faye had taken that opportunity to make their entrance. Garland's frigid eyes billowed toward Anne-Faye and she seemed to shake a little. "You really ought to learn to mind your own business."

"Goodbye Mr. Novak," Elliot said darkly.

He laughed and waved goodbye to Frankie before gunning his old Chevy pickup down the road.

We were ready to go an hour later. Elliot placed the last bag in the trunk. Casey strapped Jack in and Frankie helped Wally with his seatbelt. He hugged Annie-Faye before Casey closed the backdoor behind him. She thanked Annie-Faye and shut herself up in the front seat. Elliot joined her, leaving me alone with Annie-Faye Abernathy.

She kissed my cheek and told me to be good for my aunt and uncle. She didn't like long goodbyes. They made her cry and she didn't like crying in front of children, even if they were little men.

As the car crept away, easing down the bumpy road. I stared ahead, keeping Annie-Faye's face in my mind. My old neighborhood, my town, my father, disappeared into a thick cloud of Georgia dust. I kept my hand on my cheek where Annie-Faye's lips had been.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for the very encouraging reviews everyone! Nothing like having your inbox packed with the good stuff.

On the subject of updates: I'm pregnant. How does that pertain to you and updates? Fatigue and other…graphic…symptoms of pregnancy don't make for a lot of free time. I'm also a full time student, so that doesn't help either. I'll be updating where time permits. I just wanted to warn you.

* * *

Chapter Two

Elliot's oldest daughter Maureen was waiting for us at La Guardia. Tall and blonde, she was amiable and unassuming. She helped us with our bags and kept up a light, easy conversation on the way to her car. She fussed over Jack and she didn't try to pry Wally from his shell. She was thoughtful and welcoming, too sure of herself to be unsure of us.

I stared out the car window and watched as the bright, hungry lights of Manhattan swallowed me up. The thick and acrid smoke and grime clustered in my throat. I didn't cough. The burning danced on my tongue and kicked my teeth. I could explode in the middle of the street, tiny pieces of me scattering in every corner and nobody would notice. I wouldn't be anybody's burden or closeted skeleton. I could blend in and be anonymous. I smiled.

Queens killed my high. Tree lined streets, manicured lawns, its unobtrusive lights... A man waved at us from his driveway, his leather briefcase jiggling in his hand next to him. Maureen pulled in front of a sweet, wood-shingled house. It stood two stories high, its concrete stairs butting up against the sidewalk. Decorated glass on the redwood door and an even number of windows on both floors. A chimney even. It was like a kid's drawing of home. The smell of fresh cut grass wormed its way into my nose. I frowned and immediately started unloading the car.

The twins had spilled onto the porch while I was fishing through the trunk. The girl, Lizzie, waved and smiled. She pushed her brother, who we learned preferred to be called Dick, forward and ordered him to help us with our bags. He introduced himself with a nod of the head and scooped up Wally's bags. Frankie and I nodded back and Wally, of course, stared numbly.

Dick tilted his shaggy brown head. "What's his deal?"

"He don't talk," Frankie wrapped a gangly, protective arm around our little brother. "And we don't force him."

Dick and Frankie held each other's eyes before the older boy shrugged and carried the heavy bags inside.

Unloading the car took no time. Maureen made dinner, which Lizzie assured us was well-seasoned poison, and refused to hear we were full. Their sister Kathleen was unmoved and unimpressed by our presence. Her eyes were blue, like they swallowed the cloudless summer sky. I looked into them, hard, and I saw a tar black masked behind different shades of blue. There was a vicious, vulnerable chunk of black ice there. I shivered as I imagined the day she would shatter and suck us all in.

She glared at me and I realized she knew everything I was feeling. I plopped my eyes down to my shoes. She rolled her wide eyes and flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulders. Turning her gelid eyes on her father and my aunt, she let out an incredulous, irritated puff of air disguised as a laugh.

"What is this, Boys Town?" she folded her arms and lashed the four of us with those eyes of hers.

"Not funny, Kathleen," Elliot groaned.

"No, it's hilarious."

"Knock it off," Casey growled.

Her only response was to stomp up the stairs, announcing that she didn't want to be disturbed. Maureen flashed an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that."

"No harm done," I shrugged.

"So," Elliot tucked the tension away and looked past Maureen into the kitchen. "What ya make?"

"Spaghetti and garlic bread," she beamed with pride.

"Smells great," Casey jiggled Jack in her arms. He spit up and buried his head in her neck.

Lizzie smirked. "See, babies let you know…when danger lurks."

"Get stuffed," Maureen glared and trudged into the kitchen.

Dick and Lizzie were we learned over dinner. Lizzie was in the philosophy club and on the debate team. She wore glasses, and as far as I could tell, no makeup. She was confident and indifferent to outside thoughts, especially her brother's. She was a vegetarian and a history buff and she loved 40s music.

"…and she likes long walks on the beach and yoga at dawn," Dick rolled his eyes.

Dick was reserved. He minded his own business so long as folks minded theirs. He made the varsity basketball team, much to his father's pride. Dick was humble about his achievements, barely talking about them. He was good at science and offered to help me.

"The sixth grade science teacher's a real prick," he shrugged when Casey thanked him for being so nice. "I just don't want Nick to fall behind."

We had finished dinner when the bell rang. It was Kathy, Elliot's first wife. She'd come for the baby and to drop off some things for the twins. She was courteous, but not overly friendly. She was all business and talked mostly to Elliot, updating him on her schedule. She worked part-time as an RN and stayed home with Eli. Her boyfriend had some family in Los Angeles and was planning a trip to Disney Land. She wanted the twins and the baby to come along.

"Absolutely not," Elliot narrowed his eyes and shook his head. When her mouth fell open to protest, he held up his hand, silencing her like a conductor would an orchestra. "I don't trust the guy, I barely know him. _You_ barely know him. What's it been, six months?"

"And? He's a wonderful man and an excellent father. I have yet to object to the kids spending time with you and her. I would appreciate the same courtesy."

Elliot was about to continue, but Aunt Casey placed a calming hand on his shoulder. "She has a point El. She's a grown woman and can see whoever she wants."

"I don't give a damn who she sees," he said stolidly, shrugging his broad shoulders. "It's none of my business. Who my kids are exposed to, that is and will always be my business."

"That damn job's finally done you in," Kathy scoffed and threw her hands in the air. She drop them at her side creating a sharp thud. "Your life is stymied by who and what you see day in and day out that you can no longer see the good in the world around you."

"When'd you get so poetic? Better yet, when did you get so naïve? You think a pedophile announces who he is?"

"You're as incorrigible as you are redundant, Elliot," she hissed. Her eyes widened a bit when she spotted Lizzie carrying Eli downstairs, followed by Dickie and an irritated Kathleen. "We'll talk about this later."

"There's nothing to discuss," Elliot said through gritted teeth. He glanced at Casey, her green eyes were two red flags. He slumped his shoulders and sighed, whispering to Kathy. "I'll give you a call tomorrow."

She nodded her thanks to Casey before relieving her youngest daughter of Eli. Kissing the children in front of her, she shouted a goodbye to Maureen and headed out the door.

"You heard all that?" Casey turned towards the dining room, where Frankie and I were pretending to round up the dirty dishes. "I'll get those later. Come on, it's time for bed."

"We usually have a bath before bed," I said, following her up the stairs. Frankie carried Jack and Wally traveled behind, his steps vapid and rehearsed.

She nodded and stopped in front of a bedroom. Pushing open the door, she exposed a room that held a bunk-bed and a six drawer chest. Its walls were lilac, its curtains were a sumptuous pink. The room belonged to Maureen before she went off to college and acquired her shabby chic taste. Elliot had kept the room as if she'd never left, almost like a shrine to the little girl Maureen left behind. Frankie and Wally would share the room. Naturally Frankie was horrified and I'm sure Wally would have been too, if he could actually feel the world around him.

"It's purple," Frankie said sourly.

"Yeah, about that. I know it's traumatic, but we didn't have time to slap on a new coat of paint, you know, with us having such short notice and all. But," she clasped her hands together, handing out her smile as if it were a vaccine. "You can decorate it however you want and…"

"You don't have to explain anything," I stopped her and glared at my brother. "We're grateful. You didn't have to take us in."

"Yup," Frankie smiled, glancing around his new living situation. "Grateful for all four girly purple walls."

Casey laughed and ruffled his hair. She looked at me. "Wanna see your room?"

I nodded quickly. I'd never had my own room before.

The room was small and narrow, but it was airy and more importantly: it was mine. Soccer and basketball posters lined the walls. There was a desk with an old computer atop of it pushed against the wall and a bookshelf full of books. The closet was empty and the window lined up perfectly with the door.

"It was Dick's room before he moved to the spare room in the basement. We can change it, make it more your own. Whatever, it's up to you."

"It's perfect," I laid my hand on the birch-veneered bed and smiled. "Thanks."

She winked at me. "No problem at all. So, Jack'll sleep in Eli's crib until his gets delivered and assembled. It's late. I'll go lay him down and…"

"No," Frankie shook his head and tightened his grip on the baby. "He won't sleep without a bottle of warm milk. He'll just fuss all night if you don't give him one."

It was then that I realized Casey didn't know how to be our parent anymore than we knew how to be her kids. I would have to help her without being obvious. Adults didn't take kindly to children knowing more than them. My father taught me that.

"I usually give him a bath before his bottle. He goes out like a light if you do it that way."

Her face brightened. "I'll take care of Jack…" she glanced at Wally. "Can he…?"

"Yeah," Frankie snapped. "He's not a cripple."

"How's she supposed to know?" I shoved him and looked up at her solemnly.

"Sorry," he muttered. "It's just that, well," he frowned and jerked his head up, his voice confident and forceful. "People, back home, they treated him like some kind of retard. You know, like he's a piece of furniture that stubs everybody's toes. He can do everything we can, you know. He's just sad."

Frankie's eyes widened as he snuck a glance at me. He hung his head and burned a hole through the hardwood floor as he rubbed his jaw like he said too much. And he had for our aunt's curiosity was piqued.

"Sad? About what?"

"We don't talk about it in front of him," I said, putting a hand on Wally's shoulder for good measure.

"You don't talk about it at all," her voice was seized by a spirit of interest and she swept the three of us over. However, she seemed to sense she wasn't going to get any place, tonight anyway. She reached over and relieved Frankie of Jack. "I'm not going to force you, but Wally obviously needs help. He may be more receptive if he has your support."

When Frankie and I remained silent, she sighed and headed in the direction of the bathroom.

Aunt Casey wasn't gone five seconds when I smacked him upside his head. Grabbing him by the collar, I shook him like a broken vending machine. "Are you crazy or stupid?"

"Both!" he shouted and pushed me away. Rubbing his head, he frowned. "That hurt!"

"Keep your voice down," I hissed.

In a lower voice, he continued, "It was an accident. And how long do you 'spect we can keep it a secret? Aunt Casey ain't stupid! She'll figure it out, then what?"

"We'll worry about that when the time comes," I glanced at Wally, who had made himself comfortable on my bed. "For now, keep your trap shut and don't say squat. Don't ask don't tell, you hear?"

Frankie jutted out his lower lip and flicked it with his index finger, his brow furrowed in thought. "What if he does need help? You know, like a shrink?"

"You heard what Daddy said! They'll put him in a home if we let the doctors get a hold of him and we'll never see him again. Do you want that? 'Cause I sure as hell don't!"

"I'm gonna go unpack."

Watching Frankie leave, it dawned on me that I was going to have to watch him. He had a mouth on him and he was much too over protective of Wally. If Aunt Casey found some kind of way to convince Frankie that Wally would be better off if she knew, then there would definitely be trouble. I wouldn't—couldn't—let that happen.

* * *

"Goodnight guys," Elliot leaned poked his head through Frankie and Wally's bedroom door. I'd decided to sleep in there with them, thinking it would make the first night easier. So far, the carpet was a shade above toilet tissue. The things I did for family. "I probably won't see you when you get up, but I'm glad you boys are here. If you need anything, let me know."

"That goes for me too," Aunt Casey said from the edge of Wally's bed. She stretched a little and stood up and carefully, so as not to step on my head, she walked over and leaned into Elliot's open arms. He wrapped them around her waist and rested his chin on her head. I could've sworn she sighed. "Get some shut eye, folks. I've gotta be at a meeting first thing in the morning and the four of you are gonna spend the day with a friend."

"What time we gotta be up?" Frankie asked between an exaggerated yawn. He tugged his comforter up so it sat right below his nose.

"Six thirty at the latest," she answered nonchalantly.

"Six thirty?" Frankie groused. "But it's summer!"

"Time doesn't stop around here," Elliot nodded, agreeing with himself and the ways of the Stabler household. "You boys'll learn that soon enough."

Frankie grumbled again before slowly turning his head on his pillow to get a closer look at the alarm clock on the nightstand. "It's ten o'clock! We'll only have eight hours of sleep!"

"Do you know what I'd do for eight hours of sleep?" Elliot sighed as sweetly as a buff cop could without his manhood unraveling at the seams.

Frankie didn't answer, just groaned and turned his face toward the wall.

"We'll be up."

"Speak for yourself," Frankie mumbled.

Aunt Casey shook her head and disengaging herself from her husband, she kissed the three of us goodnight before turning off the light. With one final bidding of pleasant dreams, Elliot closed our door and marked our first night as a part of the Stabler clan.

* * *

"I called Huang. We're swamped with cases and he's backed up, but he can squeeze Wally in Monday after next."

"Good," Aunt Casey sighed. "That's good."

Her head in her right hand and a steaming cup of something or other in her left, Aunt Casey sat on the couch with her shoulders slumped. Elliot was by her side, rubbing her back in endless circles, his head on her right shoulder.

"I can't do this Elliot," she said after some time.

"It'll be…"

"No!" she interrupted hotly. "Don't pacify me like some fucking kid. It won't be fine. I screwed up. Everything I worked hard for—gone!—and for what? Lake's rotting in a cell, Fin's out soon as the ink dries…I screwed up, bad. So bad that I'm finished. Nobody this side of New York'll have me."

"I've been through this. I know what it's like to throw your whole life over the coals and get burned. It'll be tough, but I'm here. You've got a family and we've got your back."

"There's a difference," she took a hard sip from her cop. "You've got scars, but you're still standing. Come this time tomorrow, all I'll have are ashes."

Elliot kissed her lips and rested his forehead against his wife's. "I love you. Disbarred or not, you're the best damn ADA I've ever known."

"Flattery'll get you everywhere," she deepened the kiss, but pulled back abruptly. "Don't tell Alex Cabot that though. She's watching my nephews on her only day off—for free—on the condition that I let her be the queen bee."

"You relinquished you're title just like that?"

"Hell no!" she said proudly. "I had my fingers crossed."

As Elliot laughed and helped her off the couch, I quietly eased back up the stairs and back to bed.

Whatever had Aunt Casey's goat would have to wait. I had to figure out as much as I could about keeping that Dr. Huang fellow away from my brother.

* * *

"You're up," Casey gasped, her wide green eyes sweeping the kitchen. I fixed cereal and the four of us sat at the table, Jack on Frankie's lap, having a six thirty breakfast. "And you're dressed."

"Only way I know how to leave the house," Frankie mumbled, but quickly stuffed his gap when Aunt Casey whipped him with a death glare.

"Well…what time did you get up?"

"Five thirty," I answered. "Since Jack wakes up for his feeding and all, I figured it was a perfect time to get up."

"Jack woke up? I didn't hear him."

"I took the monitor and put it in the room with me. Figured you needed more sleep."

She regarded me with the mildest of smiles, unsure of what to say—yet certain something needed be said. She cleared her throat. "How long have you been taking care of your brothers?"

"Long enough," I said, spooning cereal into my mouth.

"What happened to Jack's mother?" she helped herself to a cup of coffee and eyed me over the rim. "He's a little young to be without her."

"She went back to her husband."

"Never a dull moment with Jed," she rolled her eyes and sat her cup on the counter. "You've been taking care of him all his life?"

"Ever known a Novak man to change a diaper or sing lullabies?" Frankie deadpanned.

"Nick," she ignored Frankie. "I know you're used to being responsible for your brothers and that's fine. You're their big brother and I don't expect you to slack off in that department."

"What do you expect?"

"You're not their parent. You're a child, Nick, just like them. It's my job to raise them, and you."

I nodded, not in the mood to argue.

Sensing that, she silently washed out her cup and left the room.

* * *

Alexandra Cabot was the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on. Tall, though not as tall as Aunt Casey, Alex had the majestic, unrivaled pulchritude of the grandest of statues. The blue sky was in her eyes, the sunlight in her luxurious hair, the clouds in her pearly white smile—you get the picture.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," she winked over her shoulder as she waved the five of us inside her apartment.

I gulped and trudged in behind Aunt Casey.

Alex was a Bureau Chief over at the DA's office. Her fiancé, Olivia, was Elliot's partner. Aunt Casey was her successor over at SVU and after a break, she'd since become a Bureau Chief at the DA's office.

Right now, she was covered in paint, nearly from head to toe. She was painting the spare bedroom for a reason that revved up Aunt Casey like a car engine. By then I'd decided to let my curiosity take the lead and I took off on a museum stroll around the living room.

I stopped in front of two bookcases, tall as the ceiling, overflowing with books of all shapes and sizes. It was like she'd swallowed the library and threw it up in her living room. It amazed me how one person could own so many books, but not as much as the thought of her having read them all.

"These all yours?" I interrupted for I could think about it.

"Yes," her deep voice was soft around the edges, but confident and commanding. "Does that surprise you?"

"It's just…well, why do you need so many books? You're a lawyer, so you had to have gone to college…didn't they teach you in college?"

"What's your name, kid?"

She was right next to me. The scent of her perfume and the paint fumes scalded my nose, but I couldn't bring myself to sneeze. She put her arm on my shoulder and threw her eyes to the very top of the shelf.

"Nick."

"How old are you?"

"Eleven."

"If you remember anything that I've told you, remember this: see all these books?" she swept her perfect hands about, like hawks gliding on the wind.

I nodded.

"Colleges give you a lot of knowledge, you're right about that. However, even they like to control how much of you get and how much of it you don't. They tell you what they expect you to know and you learn it. These books, all of them, have given me more than college or law school ever could. Power. Do you know why?"

I shook my head slowly.

"The more knowledge you have, the harder it is to control you. They can take away my law degree and my job and even these books, but they can't steal what I know."

If anything changed my life that was it. I'd never had anything that was my own in my entire life. My time was even split between other people. It felt amazing to learn there was something that could be all mine, something that would never leave me vulnerable.

Aunt Casey handed over Jack and kissed us all goodbye. Alex offered words of encouragement to which Aunt Casey nodded and closed the door.

"So," Alex jostled Jack in her arms and glanced at the rest of us. "There's TV in here, digital cable if you want the brain damage to be irreversible. Soon as I make some headway in the spare room, the four of us can head to the park or something. Sound good?"

"Yes," Frankie and I answered in unison.

Wally said nothing. He remained rooted to the floor, staring at the closed door Aunt Casey had just shut. It was then I realized Wally was developing some sort of attachment to our aunt, small as it was.

"Casey told me about him," Alex said softly.

"He ain't a part of the sideshow lady," Frankie said brusquely.

"Shut up," I admonished. I glanced up at her solemnly. "He's just over protective."

"Can't fault him," she shrugged, keeping her eyes on Frankie. "I didn't mean it as an insult, though I can understand why you'd take it as such."

"You can?"

She nodded. "People stigmatize what they don't understand. I'm sure people have done that to Wally all your lives and there was no reason for you to think differently of me."

"He'll sit down after awhile," Frankie said quietly, keeping his eyes on his shoes. "He just likes to be left alone."

"Then we'll leave him alone," she patted Frankie's shoulder and moved toward the spare room.

* * *


End file.
